“It's murder.”
“You asked for my help. You insist I have a duty to discharge, a debt to pay. I have helped you as I can, and I am willing to help you further in this. But I have a right to die as I see fit. I can do nothing more for you. This last act will serve both our purposes.”
“Holgren, tell her it’s not going to happen.” I looked at him, and saw from his expression he wasn’t going to tell her any such thing.
“I think she's right, Amra. She's done all she can. To force her to continue living strays from good intentions into enmity.”
“You can't mean that!”
“I'm afraid I do. Even fully healed, her will would not be her own outside the confines of Thagoth. She's been under the Shadow King's rule for too long; she would be a tool forced to commit acts she abhors. If Ruiqi chooses to defy the Shadow King by dying, I believe it is her right.” Holgren put a hand on my knee and I brushed it aside.
“It's gutless cowardice,” I said.
“Call it what you want, it is my choice.” She pulled herself to a sitting position. “I will find a way to free myself, one way or another.”
“Fine. You two work on the plans for the execution. I'm taking a walk. I'm not interested.” I got up and walked away, toward the ruins.
“Amra. Please." Holgren caught up to me and put a hand on my arm. I shook it off.
“This goes against my very nature, Holgren. You know that more than anyone.”
How could he not know? I had lived through things that would—had—killed others more capable than me only because I refused to give up, to give in. Survival was ingrained in me. The experience we'd shared in the gate had shown him that.
“What is right for you isn't right for everyone. There are some things more important than survival, to some people.”
“This goes a long way from surviving or not surviving. It's murder.”
“You're wrong. I love you for wanting to save her, but you're wrong. At worst it's sacrifice, at best it's a release for her. And it isn't your choice. It is Ruiqi’s.”
“Call it whatever you want, Holgren, the fact remains that if we follow this plan she's going to die. Instead of trying to stop her or talk her out of it, we're going to help her do it. You might not think of it as murder, and she might want nothing else. Think about this, Holgren; we're going to let Athagos suck her very soul from her body. You don't know what that means. I do, damn it. I'd rather help her slit her wrists than watch a repeat performance.”
He had no idea what it was like. Neither of them did. “If you'd seen what Athagos is capable of, what's going to happen when Athagos takes her, you'd both be a damn sight less glib about it.”
“Glib is far from accurate, Amra, and you know it. Don't you see? This is the only sure way for her to be released. She hasn't died from the wounds inflicted by the Shadow King, and she's not going to die from the loss of her legs either, even if they putrefy. Lopping her head off probably wouldn't kill her. The Shadow King commanded her to live, and that's exactly what she'll do, to the limits of her power. Only Athagos's embrace will set her free.”
“Some freedom, to be consumed. Sure, she’ll be free of the Shadow King, but her soul will be eaten. Think about that for a minute.” I crossed my arms and fought for calm. It was elusive.
“Maybe you're right,” I continued. “It doesn't really matter though, does it? Right or wrong, it's going to happen whatever I say. So go on back and prepare. Just leave me alone right now. I'll be back.”
“As you wish.” The look on his face was sorrowful. Even as angry as I was, it pained me to see him so. I stalked off into the ruins, feeling an ache in my heart that I couldn't fully explain.
The highest vantage point in Thagoth was atop a crumbling, rust-colored roofless tower on the far north side of the city, a block away from the surrounding death lands. I climbed to the top floor and sat in the wide oval of the west-facing window. With feet dangling, I looked out at the nightmare landscape the Sorcerer King had wrought. It wasn't any prettier from five stories up. How much damage hate and envy could do, given sufficient power.
Maybe Holgren was right. Maybe the world would be better off without magic, but I suspected that power would just take some other form. The effects of its abuse would remain about the same: Death for the powerless in some form or fashion. Humanity was all too predictable.
Be it spells or swords or some improved arquebus, the mighty would take by force what they wanted, and leave bodies in their wake. It sort of made my profession look noble by comparison. I've never taken anything from someone who had less than I did.
I cast my sight out beyond the death lands, to the edge of the valley, to the horizon and the wispy tendrils of clouds moving away to the north. It was one of those bright winter days that are deceptively sunny. Step into shadow and you could feel the cold sucking at your body heat. It was going to be a frigid night. It might even snow. I hadn't seen snow in years—it rarely got cold enough in Lucernis which, while not one of the reasons I'd moved there in the first place, was one of the reasons I'd stayed.
I was angry at Holgren for agreeing to help Ruiqi kill herself, and that we were going to profit from her death. Sacrifice was idiocy. There was nothing noble or glorious about it. But what was I to do? Follow her through life making sure she never got the chance to kill herself? Keep all sharp things away from her? Tie her down, force-feed her? If she was going to do it, no measure I took would be enough in the long run. The chances of any of us making it through the next day or so were awful anyway. It didn't make the situation any more palatable.
I pulled myself out of the window and lay on my back, staring up at the sky. From this position, with the walls blocking out the surrounding terrain, I could be anywhere. Sky is sky. I tried to pretend I was in Lucernis, or Coroune, or even Bellarius—anywhere but Thagoth. It was no good. The silence, the lack of street noise and human voices was too different from any of the places I tried to imagine myself away to. Would I ever get back to Lucernis, or anything approaching civilization? When would the nightmare end?
I looked up at the sky and slowly accepted my situation. I was in Thagoth, and tomorrow or the day after we were going to confront Athagos and probably die. If we survived, we would face Tha-Agoth and possibly die. If we survived that, we would eventually face the Shadow King again, and almost certainly die. There seemed to be a large probability of Holgren and me dying in the near future. I really didn't like it. Not only because I very much wanted to live, but because I wanted to live alongside him. My heart ached when I thought of all the things we wouldn't get to experience if we failed to survive our multiple dooms. Then it hit me. I smacked my forehead with a palm and got to my feet. Eventually even I can realize when I'm being an idiot.
There was one thing we still had time to share.
I made my way down the uneven steps of the tower and back to camp. Holgren looked up at me and I put a finger to my lips. Ruiqi was sleeping again. I grabbed a couple of blankets, turned back toward the city, and gestured for him to follow me. He did so with a look of puzzlement on his face. I led him to another walled garden, one with springy turf and a shattered fountain that still trickled pure, sweet water. There I spread the blankets out and began to undress. He looked at me with a sort of amazed bemusement on his face. I took my filthy shirt off and, taking his head gently in both my hands, bent it down so I could kiss him. My heart was pounding, in excitement for once instead of fear.
After a deliciously long time, I broke away and started pulling my boots off. He just stood there.
“The sooner you strip,” I said, “the sooner we can help each other clean some of the grime off. I’ll be much less distracted if I'm not worrying about how badly I stink.”
I may have had a head start, but he managed to get undressed before me. The water of our bath was breathtakingly cold. We warmed up rather quickly, though, afterwards.
Somewhere along the way I managed to tell him I loved him. It wasn't nearly as
hard as I thought it would be. In the rush of it all I wondered distractedly why I had made such a fuss about saying it, or showing it.
It was with more than a little regret that I disentangled myself from Holgren's sleeping form and started dressing. The sun was setting, and the cold could no longer be ignored. But I didn't want to leave our little pocket of peace and happiness.
The wind had picked up. A frigid gust blew through the garden and plucked the blanket off Holgren. He grunted and shivered, and felt around for me with one hand, eyes closed.
“Wake up, lover. Time to face the future, such as it is.”
“Mmm. In a bit. Come back. I'm cold.”
I finished buttoning my shirt and knelt down beside him. I ran my fingers through his long, tousled hair. How could I have known him so long and not seen just what he was, what he meant to me?
“Get up and get dressed, Holgren, or you might get frostbite on some very uncomfortable spots.”
He cracked one eye open and regarded me. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you too. Now get up, you lazy bastard, and help me gather firewood. Tonight's going to be a cold one. We'll need to move Ruiqi indoors as well. Don't want her to die before it's time.”
“Amra, please—”
“Sorry. I’ll leave it alone from now on. I promise. It won't be an issue after tonight anyway.”
He nodded, stretched, and started getting dressed. “Tomorrow morning, then?”
“If you and she are prepared.”
“We will be. The preparations are minimal, and not terribly complex. All I will be doing is supplying her with an extra measure of power, as most of hers is absorbed in keeping her body functioning.”
“I didn't know mages could lend out power.”
“Normally they can't. We are now members of the same khordun, though, so it's a simple matter in this case. One of the few advantages of the situation, and poetic in that it might ultimately lead to the Shadow King's downfall.”
“Here's hoping. Come on. It'll be dark by the time we get back to camp, and we still have to move to a better shelter.”
Holgren and I moved Ruiqi and our few belongings to a windowless building nearer the Tabernacle, one that still had most of its roof intact. The wind had really started to blow with the coming of night, and the temperature was falling fast.
We built a fire up in one corner, huddling in blankets around it, Ruiqi propped up against a wall and Holgren and I nestled next to each other. Damp wood hissed and crackled in the fire and the wind moaned and shrieked. All three of us were cold and hungry. Ruiqi was talking to Holgren.
“Adepts of the Order are taught to make even their deaths serve the will of the Emperor. It is what we call the argilleh, the last blow. In the days when battle mages were an integral part of warfare, sometimes even in defeat those of the Order would secure victory for the armies of the Empire by preparing themselves in just such a way as you will help me prepare.”
“Aridhall Flamehand killed dozens of the Order at the battle of Isinglass,” I said. “Or so the story goes. Why didn't their ‘last blows’ kill him?”
“Flamehand was unique. No one before or since could match the kind of control or mastery of the Art that he achieved. And no one had the raw power that he possessed, not since before the Diaspora. The Order at that time was rotted through with evil and ineptitude. Flamehand was a blessing in disguise. After Isinglass, the Emperor reshaped the Order and cut out what deadwood was left. Some trees need drastic pruning in order to survive, and thrive. So it was with the Order.”
“Which is all interesting but strays from the point. Can you say with certainty that your argilleh will knock Athagos out?”
“I cannot promise it, no. I believe there is a very good chance it will succeed. Between Holgren and me, we should be able to muster sufficient power to produce the intended effect. I offer no guarantees.”
“Then I want you two to work on a way to temporarily deafen Holgren and me as well.”
Ruiqi nodded. “Prudent and already discussed.”
“I think I've got a way to produce such an effect,” said Holgren. “I do wish I had access to my sanctum.”
“I wish I had a bottle of wine and a leg of lamb.” I shivered and drew my blanket tighter around me. “If it gets much colder we might not have to worry about tomorrow. We'll freeze to death in our sleep.” I wrapped my blanket tighter still and lay down on my side on the leaf-littered floor, scooting as close to the fire as I could. The front of me sweltered while my backside froze. Such is life.
I watched the flames and listened with half an ear as Holgren and Ruiqi talked about theorems and paradigms, and occasionally uttered sounds I recognized as magical triggers.
Magic was at heart a simple matter of impressing your will on reality, or so Holgren had explained to me long before. In practice it was rarely that simple. It seemed that mages could spend weeks on the simplest of tasks, though usually when somebody was paying them for their time rather than results.
Without even realizing I was tired, I soon fell into an uncomfortable sleep.
Holgren woke me sometime before dawn. He had replenished the fire and it burned higher and hotter than before. Good thing. It had begun to snow while I slept. The part of the room open to the sky had grown a snow-drift overnight. I watched as more flakes swirled in, driven by the howling wind.
“At first light we're going to carry Ruiqi to the gates,” Holgren whispered. “I wanted to talk out our plans.”
I looked over at her. She was still sitting up, propped against the wall. She was in some sort of trance state, motionless, arms raised to the sky, palms up. Her breathing was so slow as to be nearly imperceptible.
“She’s preparing herself. And so should we.”
“Did you figure out a way to deafen us?”
“Yes, but only briefly. And if you speak at all, make any sound with your voice, the spell will unravel. Remember that. Don't cry out, no matter what, until you're sure it is safe to do so.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes where Athagos is concerned.”
“This is what we came up with while you slept. We will carry Ruiqi to the gate at dawn, as quietly as possible. I'll perform the deafening and we’ll stay out of sight in the square, much as you did when you dragged her back yesterday. Ruiqi will open the gates and call Athagos.”
“The gates are already open.”
“No, they're slightly ajar. She plans to get the goddess's attention quickly. You'll see. When Athagos takes her the argilleh should render her unconscious for at least a few seconds, hopefully longer, allowing you to transfer the necklace and us to slip past her into the Tabernacle.”
He leaned back and stretched. “After that point,” he said through a yawn, “planning becomes futile. Can you suggest any changes or improvements?”
“It may take a long while for Athagos to respond to Ruiqi, whatever she’s planning to do. Our deafness might wear off before that happens. I'd prefer to approach the Tabernacle from the opposite side and use Ruiqi's suicide as a diversion. Unfortunately I've got to hang around and drop off the necklace.” I looked at him. “That doesn't mean you have to.”
“Where you go, I go. No arguments.”
“Alright. What's involved in renewing the spell, then, if it wears off before Athagos is incapacitated?”
“Let's just say we don't want that to happen.”
“Then what have we got to plug our ears?”
“I'd love to have some wax but there’s nothing except cloth. Or dirt, I suppose. I really doubt we can fashion anything that would do the trick.”
“We'll just have to hope for the best, then.”
He squeezed my hand and smiled. “We will make it through.”
“Of course. Don't we always?” But I wasn't sure about this time, not at all.
We spent what remained of the night in each other's arms, sharing warmth. Ruiqi sat as still as a statue, the only sign of life the slow rise and fall of her ch
est. Prepare as she might, though, I doubted anyone could truly be prepared for death at the hands and mouth of Athagos.
As daylight crept up on us she stirred at last. She lowered her arms and placed her palms against her forehead, then put her fingertips to her lips and finally let her hands settle in what remained of her lap. “Please take me to see the dawn,” she said, voice serene. Of all her voices, that one disturbed me the most. I think. No one should be that calm facing imminent, certain death.
We lugged her outside and found a low stone wall to perch her on so she had an unobstructed view to the east. It was still snowing, and bitterly cold. There was no way she could actually see the sun rise, but it didn't seem to matter to her. Or perhaps she found it fitting.
She let a couple of tears escape, though she smiled that serene smile all the while. After a few minutes she said “I am ready,” and we helped her off the wall and carried her to her doom.
It was slow going through the snow-filled streets. One of us was constantly slipping. Finally Holgren called for a halt and put Ruiqi on his back, getting a grip on her legs above the stumps and having her cling to his neck. I walked ahead, plowing some of the snow out of the way. I don't know that it went any more quickly after that, but there were fewer spills.
The moment I stepped into the square, Tha-Agoth's voice filled my head.
What are you planning, little thief?
I stopped abruptly and Holgren bumped into me. “What's the matter?” he asked, and I held up a hand.
“You said you'd stay out of my mind,” I said to Tha-Agoth. “Is your word good or not?”
I said I would not enter your memories, and I have not. I made no such assertion in respect to your companions.
“We do what we have to. I hope you can understand that. We have no choice. When we're done, we'll free you. That I promise.”
The Thief Who Spat In Luck's Good Eye Page 15